Mako Tidings
by Ash Gray Kitsune
Summary: It's the last day of September, and the members of AVALANCHE just wanted to relax...until Rufus Shinra shows up, with news that once again, Hojo's left a calling card...Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: None that I'm making apparent, though if you have faves, feel free to pair them up.**

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

Vincent, once the first shock had passed, said it best out of the lot of them.

"Are you fucking INSANE?" He bellowed, his lanky body flying up out of the chair, fist clenched, claw poised to strike. Rufus stared up at him, blue eyes pained and distant from the drugs still required to ease the agony from his shattered hip and legs. He was still pinned to a wheelchair, but not even the infamous Vincent Valentine, his eyes flashing yellow, scared the President of Shin-ra Inc...though, the warm sunlight shining through the window in Cid's over-sized kitchen seemed to make the situation all the more unreal. Shera had left for the day to visit her aunt; in her absence, the old pilot had invited AVALANCHE's former team over for rum cake and tea, only to have their quiet remembrance of the events four years ago shattered by the beat of a helicopter's blades, and the arrival of the man before them. Small wonder Vincent was angry; he wanted no part of the past anymore, only talking to Cid and Tifa these days.

"Sadly, despite the world's attempts to drive me to that place, I've not yet fallen to such depths. You all should be damned thankful that we even came out here to tell you the news; if I'd still had the resources of even a year ago, I would have firebombed the remains of the Tower and Midgar. Unfortunately, due to the WRO's acquistition of everything that Shin-ra owned after the Deepground incidents, and Reeve's insistance that he had no need for the Turks to investigate farther...we have ended up in this predicament. Please sit down, Vincent; there's no need for you to threaten me further bodily harm, I am suitably convinced of your prowess with that claw." The gunman glared at his former employer's son for a moment more, then flung himself back into his seat, red eyes aglow. Cloud ran his hands through his hair, already feeling a huge migraine coming on.

"Rufus, who started the experimentations?" He asked quietly, drawing his teammates attention. Tifa looked concerned across from him, Yuffie outright scared. Barret and Cid were unreadable, though with Cid, it was due to the cloud of smoke circling his head and shoulders. Nanaki had sandwiched himself between the girls, while Reeve looked distinctly guilty, his hands toying with Cait's ears and crown. Vincent, of course, had picked the chair farthest from Rufus and Tseng; his distaste and anger were almost as palpable as the cigerette smoke. The swordsman himself was feeling horribly nauseus, his stomach churning as memories arose unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. He took a long drink from his now cold tea; the bitter leaves seemed to stifle the nausea a little.

"Originally? Someone who I suspect it would be unwise to speak of in present company, but who had had the best intentions for those with brain traumas from the war and the construction of the mako reactors. It was furthered by several other scientists...and then it fell into Lucrecia Crescent's hands. From there, after her exile, Hojo took over. And I'm sure you're all aware of how much that monster perverted the name of science for generations to come. However, when you destroyed him, Vincent...he had arranged for a monster of his own to be unleashed, one that could destroy the entire world, in less than a year's time." Reeve looked green, and rather kindly, Barret gave him a cup of his own, this one of the strong coffee the big man had forced Cid to brew.

"But, it's been almost over a year since Vincent took down Omega...surely that delayed this...virus?" Tifa's voice was wavering, but Cloud had to smile a bit; she might have been afraid, but she knew too well that showing that fear would set Yuffie off, and nobody wanted sharp, pointy objects flying all over the place from a freaked-out ninja. Rufus, ever the flirt, graced her with a smile, though that faded quickly.

"It did, to some extent; it delayed the infected from reaching the surface sooner, and gave the world a little time to recuperate after the battle. But we are all woefully unprepared for what lies beneath the destruction of Midgar; recent seismic imagery show us that there is a horde slowly digging its way out of the earth," he passed around the photos, all of which showed the eerie green forms of human bodies, mindlessly digging through the shrapnel-ridden, mako-laced soil that had covered Deepground for so long. "the mako has altered the biology of some of the infected; we're not confident on how, but we suspect it's similiar to the changes seen in SOLDIER operatives. This is not something we can handle; the WRO already has its hands full evacuating Kalm, Costa, and the Gold Saucer."

"Where are they evacuating to, Reeve?" The bearded man swallowed, and he looked wretched as he looked up to meet their eyes. "To Wutai for the time being, but people are very reluctant, and we're having a great deal of trouble. No one wants to let go of yet another home..." Cid surfaced for air, and for once, his blue eyes were rather less hard than usual. He clapped Reeve lightly on the shoulder, startling the man nearly out of his robes.

"Yer alright, Reeve. Ain't yer fault that the lil' pissant got in another blow to the balls." Cid turned to lean forward and snuff out his cig, waving away the cloud and staring Rufus down. "How much time have we got?"

"About a day and a half."

"...Thanks, Rufus."

"If I had had a choice, I would have nuked the place this morning when I found out." Barret groaned aloud, his human hand mimicking Cloud's in rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Rufus, you ain't got nuthin' to kill these things, do ya?"

"...I have a shotgun, but unfortunately, I'm in a wheelchair."

"I was talkin' 'bout somethin' wit' a little more firepower."

"Tseng?" The tall Wutaiian stepped forward, one eyebrow raised as he opened the folder he'd held through the meeting, taking a small pair of reading glasses out of his pocket.

"We have access to several guns, enough ammo to survive a month, and three separate safe houses to protect a small resistance force. Unfortunately, we live in a world with more free land than cities, so food supplies are already a problem. As for 'more firepower'...we have several flamethrowers, and a slew of swords left over from the vaults of the Junon air force base. Otherwise...we're absolutely broke."

"What about the helicopters?"

"Well, only one was actually privately owned; the rest were taken by the WRO and are in use now."

"...I think I know who owned the helicopter." Cloud grumbled, glaring at the Head Turk. Tseng just sighed and nodded his head.

"You would be correct, Mr. Strife. Reno's our only good pilot, and he spent six years of his salary on that 'copter. He wouldn't give it up over his dead body." Cloud sighed and leaned back, tipping his chair up on the back two legs.

"So, we have this massive horde of former Deepground SOLDIERs digging up through the debris of Midgar, presumably out looking for a food source. Do you have any idea what this food source might be?" At that, Rufus looked distinctly ill, and Cloud felt the foreboding return.

"We believe they might be hungry for human flesh." Silence descended on the room, and it was Cid who broke it, growling out a sentiment they all felt.

"We're up against fuckin' zombies."

**I had to. I'm doing a swap meet on to the tune of post-apocalyptic fashion, and FFVII always struck that sort of chord with me. The world's almost gone up in flames, had a serious government problem...it needed ZOMBIES. Yes. No worries, I consulted with for my zombie facts and the formation of the virus; I promise it to be quite satisfactory. And yes, this will be a Halloween fic; I'm going to aim for 31 chapters, one a day till Hallow's Eve comes upon us!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: None that I'm making apparent, though if you have faves, feel free to pair them up.**

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

When Shera returned home the next day, she was startled, and more than a little annoyed by the explosion of crap scattered across her once neat yard. After the two years they'd been married, she had thought that Cid's tendancy to strip down every mechanical thing on the planet when she was away had abeited a little...until Vincent came striding out of the house, his trademark cloak gone, his long hair braided back and the bandanna replaced with a reinforced one, the metal plating gleaming in the sun. He was still dressed in black, and it was still leather, but the supple calf-skin was interrupted by a holster on his left leg, double holsters across his back, and the brass boots and claw replaced with combat boots and a long, reinforced glove. He looked like a remnant of the ninja clans of the distant past, his red eyes reading a long transcript as he walked over to one of the bundles on the ground, kneeling to check its contents. Behind him came Tifa, clad in similiar gear, though hers was black khaki and steel glove guards, a long pole twirling in her hands.

"Shera! Getcher ass in here!" Cid had appeared on the porch, and while he wasn't dressed in black, he was certainly in the same sort of clothing the other two exhibited, his glaive leaning against the railing, stocky form clad in gray and green camoflage. For once, the cigerette in his mouth wasn't lit, but his eyes didn't hold their usual warmth when they saw her; they were shaded with an emotion she didn't see very often...fear.

"Cid, what on earth...?"

"We gotta problem, hon. Come inside, and we'll talk it over while I finish packing up the tools for the airships."

"Tools for the airships...?" Cid gently pulled her around a huffing Barret, his muscles bulging as he hauled the back-up generator out onto the porch, raising the ire of a grease-covered Cloud, who was trying to fix one of the motorcycles that had littered the garage out back, and was now laying half on the deck so that the blonde could adjust the front forks. Handing her a cup of tea, after the indignant squawking died down, Cid sighed, holding a mug of tea close while he gestured to Shera to sit at the kitchen table.

"Something's coming out of Deepground tonight." She stared at him, not really comprehending. She'd seen the WRO crews asking people to leave their homes, hell, she'd even helped her aunt get some toiletries gathered up and sent her on her way...But she didn't know what it was they were fleeing. She'd overheard 'environmental hazards from the mako reactors', some sort of poison in the ground...

"What do you mean, something? Something got by Vincent?"

"More like something Hojo planted that I had no knowledge of." Vincent's smoky voice echoed down the hall as he made his way back into the kitchen, absently studying the transcript still. "Chief, we need to talk about the canned goods. Half of them went bad." Cid groaned and took another gulp of tea.

"There's a bunch of dried meat in the smokehouse still, unless Yuffie got that taken care of already, and I think I left a decent stash of home-canned stuff in the cellar."

"I'll look into it. Better hurry, Cid."

"I will...Long, long story short, we gotta make a run to Wutai; Hojo engineered a virus that makes every dead experiment he ever came in contact with come back to life...sort of. They're-"

"Zombies?" The horror made her gorge rise, and she'd seen far too many movies not to see where this was going. "This cannot be happening, Cid."

"Tough shit, it is. We're leaving in two hours; that's why I called and bitched you out. Grab what you can carry on your back, and get yourself dressed in field gear; we're driving out to the airships, then taking off."

"But, if they're all in Midgar..."

"Didn't you hear me? ALL of the SOLDIERs. Every single dead SOLDIER who passed under Hojo's hands will have this fuckin' virus in 'em, reanimatin' dead tissues, bringin' even the desicated corpses back to shamblin' life. The ones from Deepground are dangerous in that they're fast; but we got the whole bloody planet to worry about now because there ain't a patch of land on any continent without at least one body on it. Wutai, for some reason, ain't had anything even come close to popping up, and old Godo's reinforcin' the fortress right now with the WRO and Yuffie. Rufus and his crew of Turks are plantin' explosives all around Midgar to slow the horde down; they don't expect much. So git movin'; I gotta finish gettin' the house locked down so's we can have somethin' to come back to." He rinsed the mug out, setting it on the towel beside the sink, and disappeared down into the basement, leaving his wife to stare at her own full mug, eyes wide and fearful. A slender hand touched her shoulder, and glancing up, Shera forced a smile for Tifa, her red eyes quiet and sad.

"I'm sorry, I'm holding all of you up..."

"It's alright. We're all still hurting from the bender we got ourselves in last night."

"This is really happening, isn't it?"

"It is. Come on, I'll help you pack; Vincent's taking charge of the convoy to the ships." Tifa led her up the stairs, and let her back a small backpack that had been left on the bed, Cid's clothing and gear already outside waiting, the blankets neatly folded up and stored away in the closet. Shera went ahead and changed quickly; turning around, she caught Tifa's eye and blushed a little. The raven-haired woman didn't look terribly surprised at the fresh hickeys on her neck...

"What about our neighbors, the town?" She asked, distracting herself by pulling on a turtleneck and tying up her hair. Tifa shrugged, her voice still quiet.

"Everyone's already mostly out to the Avalanche, it's just a matter of getting our asses in gear." Shera fiddled with her belt, and opened her mouth, when Tifa held up a hand. "Relax. He knows; it really doesn't bug him that much anymore. He knew you both weren't meant to be, Shera." Still, shame burned across her face.

"But, I cheated..."

"You kept it quiet, and you did your best to make sure that Cid was taken care of. He knows that, and he knows that he couldn't give you what you needed; he's not mad. A little disappointed that you didn't trust him enough to understand, but he's certainly not angry." Her head rose, and eyes narrowed, she beckoned for the woman to follow her. "Let's go...that's the signal that they broke the surface."

"Wha...?" But Shera's question died in her throat as a sharp whistle pieced the air, and the yard out front erupted in a rush to the large trucks that had just rolled up, Vincent perched up top, his fingers pressed to his lips to whistle again. He made a series of running jumps to land atop the third truck and dive into the driver's seat as Tifa unceremoniously dragged Shera down the stairs and to the foremost truck; tossing her into the cab, the younger woman spun on her heel and made tracks for Cloud's personal bike, Fenrir; the blonde threw his wrench into his bag and jumped on the back, and she took off, heading for the back of the convoy to act as rearguard. Cid was yelling at Barret, likely over the generator, and finally both men ran over to the truck, Cid squishing Shera in between himself and the driver, while Barret lifted himself into the back of the middle truck. They surged forward, and glancing at the side mirror, Shera watched her quiet life fade away. She covered her mouth, and buried her face in Cid's shoulder; a warm arm wrapped around her, and a soft voice permeated the despair.

"We're alive, Sher...We're alive. No matter what, that's the most important thing of all. Now, stay with me. We gotta get in the air and to Wutai before night falls; I need your expertise now more than ever to keep the Avalanche in the air. She's not a happy bird right now, and I ain't got the time to repair her."

"Cid..."

"Don't. Not now. We'll talk it over when we're safe. In the mean time...we're gonna be going up against something we've never really faced before...and we ain't got a clue how to fight it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: None that I'm making apparent, though if you have faves, feel free to pair them up.**

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

Vincent eyeballed the landscape around them, feeling distinctly twitchy, his bad left hand occasionally drifting down to the smaller firearm on his hip. While the hand itself was significantly weakened in comparison to the other side, it was still capable of wielding the pistol alone. However, a much smaller hand touched his shoulder, and he glanced over, sparing a quiet smile for the young girl who'd snuck into his truck without her father's knowledge.

"Barret will kill me if he finds out you were in here, Marlene."

"Pfft. I'll take the blame. Thanks for not yelling at me, Vincent."

"Would it have done me any good?" She laughed a little, turning to settle back against the rough canvas seats.

"Nope."

"I'd thought not. Have you been practicing your gunmanship like I told you to?"

"Yessir. Papa got a little angry that you taught me on the rifle first, but now I'm really glad..."

"So am I, child. So am I. Was Reeve ready when he sent the trucks on?"

"Nearly. He only sent them because the spotters were getting visuals and already taking headshots." Vincent sighed, feeling distinctly old, and let his crimson eyes follow the lines of the lower Nibel hills, narrowing when he caught movement. It was slow, however, and he hoped that it might just be an ambling herd of deer. The airship, once a small speck, was growing much larger now; the hanger lay in the lee of a gentle valley, the better to protect its delicate birds from the occasional harsh winds that blew off of the mountains. Marlene leaned a little forward, her eyes growing huge. He chuckled softly and gave her a pat on the head; no matter how many times she'd seen the airships in the four years she'd spent around Cid and the rest of her adopted family, the sheer size and power of the ancient machines still sent her into an awed silence. He supposed she'd grow out of it in time, but for now, it was a breath of new life. Vincent rather enjoyed that these days, now that Chaos was at peace and Lucrecia far from his thoughts.

"Vincent?"

"Yes, Marlene?"

"When's your birthday?"

"...October 13th." Her eyes widened, and she clapped excitedly, only to stop as he leveled a scary glare her way. "And if you tell Yuffie, I will never let you shoot another of my guns again." She squeaked and squeezed up against the opposite door as he turned his eyes back to the roadway, heaving a soft sigh that they were nearly to the gates; it wasn't a long drive by any means, but the silence outside was just...wrong. He heard no birdsong, none of the soft howls that usually echoed across the plains this time of the evening from the direwolves, not even the wind was blowing strong enough to buffer the sides of the vehicles. It was eerie, and he'd had enough of that crap to last him another few lifetimes. Marlene seemed to pick up on his watchfulness, and she shivered, ducking close to the edge of the window frame to peer out at the plains around them. It was like taking a monkey to New Town...The loud honking from up front, along with Tifa's reemergance from the dust cloud behind them, woke him from his thoughts, and both man and girl relaxed as they drove into Cid's airship compound, the enormous doors sliding shut behind them.

Technicians, pilots, navigators, and crewmen buzzed all over the place, with their Captains standing atop the supply crates to yell orders. Cid's personal crew, along with his teammates, were the last to arrive with the remaining supplies, and Vincent, instead of worrying about the child keeping up, simply picked up Marlene and settled her on his hip, heading directly towards the airship and a very disheveled Reeve. The WRO President had a habit of running his hands through his hair and beard when he was agitated, and now he looked mildly insane, his normally trim beard puffed out and ragged, while his wavy hair stood entirely on end. Vincent passed him with a nod and a sympathetic look, then took Marlene up to the cabin deck. After she was settled safely in her father's room, he made his calm, quiet way out onto the open air deck, fingering the rifle now strapped to his back. While he missed his cloak, very much not liking the way his trim body was displayed to the world, he couldn't deny that it was one less burden to carry.

"Vin!" Ah, Cid. At least he'd always know who was yelling at him.

"What?" He called back down, leaning over the railing to meet the Captain's gaze.

"Can ya do me a favor and tell me what you see through the sniper scope about 42 degrees left of due north?" He quirked an eyebrow, but hopped up on to the top deck's wing, pulling the scope out of one of his shirt pockets and matching up the coordinates. Red eyes narrowed, then widened, and he leapt of the ship all together, landing neatly feetfirst on the concrete.

"I thought we had more time to prepare." He replied, glaring at the blonde as he stood up, wincing just a little from the jump. He may have been undead himself, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to get hurt at least a little from a stunt like that.

"So did I, so don't getcher boxers in a bunch. What'd ya see? You've got the eyes for this sort of thing, we don't."

"..."

"That bad, eh? Alright." He nodded to a scrappy-looking young man with a buzz cut and a squashed nose, who immediately dropped his pack and stood at attention. "Hastings, send word to the other captains via radio that we take off in 30. Anyone left behind, stays behind." The kid looked shocked, then nodded grimly and took off like an arrow, running headlong towards the transmitter up by the gates. As the crowds took on a desperate air, crewmen and techs now stripping down the necessities and loading up, Vincent caught his friends' eyes. Cloud looked worried, and a touched worn out, Tifa outright scared. Shera was sorting out tools and handing the cases to Barret, who'd paused at Cid's announcement, his dark eyes going to the darkening sky. As the large floodlights came on around the perimeter of the compound, an eldritch wailing could be heard, far off still, but growing closer. The pilot motioned for them to go inside, and Vincent picked up a box of tools, sparing only a somber glance to the cacophony around them. It was to be a long night...

**Ahhh...third chapter. I apologize for not much action just yet, but I figured it would be best to hold off just one more chapter...and don't worry, they will get longer from here on out. Now that the preliminary, obligatory escape plan is underway...time to add a few complications. Muahahaha...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: None that I'm making apparent, though if you have faves, feel free to pair them up.**

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

There was a stirring in the dank air of the cave, and blue eyes opened, their pupils flashing a little from the dim light, reflecting like a cat's as they expanded, edging out the color of the sky. They narrowed however, and a sneer of anger twisted sculpted lips, and Genesis sat up from his make-shift bed, glaring over at the young man thrashing weakly by the fire. Weiss, though strong, was damaged beyond repair from Hojo's tinkering; the seizures were growing stronger and more frequent, lasting now for hours at a time. The general still cared for him, however, because he still had his uses; it had been Weiss's DNA that had gotten him into the old control rooms before the virus had taken hold, and using the boy as cover so that he could marvel at the world's fall had been rather amusing...but that time was nearly over. Nobody remembered the other two generals of SOLDIER; all they knew was Sephiroth, and the destruction he'd caused. Angeal was long forgotten, Lazard, almost moreso...and he was all that remained. Pulling the boy's body back onto his pallet, Gen focused the Heal Materia in his gauntlet and settled the boy with a carefully cast Sleep spell. As Weiss's face smoothed and his limbs drew close to his body once more, the redhead found himself thinking about Angeal's young Major, how that boy and this one might have been good friends, had they been given the opportunity. And of course, Nero...

_They might have been enemies, too, Gen._ Angeal's voice echoed softly in his ears, and Genesis growled, standing up and making his way to the mouth of the cave, boots clicking faintly on the shale floor.

"Semantics, Angeal."

_Even then, they would have had fun._

_True enough, Zack certainly never passed up a fight._

**Did you say fight? WHERE?** Genesis snarled and swatted at the three floating blobs of spirit, two of which had small wings protruding from their top halves, and Sephiroth watched him with a faint smirk. Zack-blob was bouncing like crazy, and it took a smack from Angeal's wing to shut him up.

"Why in the HELL have you three come back from the Lifestream? I thought you got integrated when you died!" Angeal strugged, as did Zack, while Sephiroth was preening one of his wings with a tendril.

_It was probably that young Cetra I had the misfortune to kill..._ Zack stared at him in dismay, then flew over, two small tendrils forming something like hands, possibly to strangle his superior officer.

**YOU SAID THAT SHE'D TOLD ME THAT TO SHUT ME UP!**

_I told you that to shut you up._

**YOU BASTARD!** Genesis smacked both of them into the wall, hissing a little in his rage.

"I will thank the two of you to shut the hell up when I'm trying to think, understood? If I hear one more thing out of either of you, I will personally open a mako well right here and shove the two of you in it!" He noted with satisfaction that even Sephiroth was taking him seriously; that was rather nice to see, he supposed. Now, to set himself to rights...he walked out of the cave, taking in the stars, and coordinating himself by the constellations and their positions. Angeal had followed him, still quiet, and he patted Genesis on the shoulder, settling himself on the leather pauldron.

_I'm sorry about those two..._

"You've nothing to be sorry about. So, what do you suggest we do? I can't risk taking Weiss back near Midgar, and if I know Shinra, that young brat of Augustus will be either firebombing sites or mowing down the infected. Banora was destroyed almost a decade ago..."

_Modeoheim isn't safe, either; our best bet may be making tracks towards the survivors and seeing if we can fit in. No one remembers you, and Weiss was raised in the labs, so you two should be perfectly fine._

"What about that Cloud kid? He was Zack's friend."

_He also had most of his memories permenately erased by Jenova; Seph was talking about that a while ago, so you should be safe there. Besides, you met the kid what, once? He only knew about you from Zack. And Genesis Rhapsodos, while a mouthful, isn't on the manuscripts for the SOLDIER listings any longer, so essentially, you don't exist. _

"I don't know if I like that."

_Not existing?_

"...Yeah..."

_Then maybe we ought to join up with everyone. I can take those two and go scout where the survivors are going, if that's alright with you?_

"Please do. I'll wait here with Weiss until you return, or until we're overrun."

_If we find anything, I'll send Zack back. He's the fastest._

_"_I'm overjoyed..."

* * *

><p>An enormous BOOM circled out from the first ring of explosives, and Reno smirked, though there was little humor in his face, greeny-blue eyes narrowed behind his goggles. Rude was with Elena in the chopper, their course set for the hill top where he and Tseng were perched...interestingly enough, it was the site of a certain SOLDIER's grave as well, and the redhead felt uneasy to be standing atop his old friend, wondering if the kind, slightly idiotic Major would erupt from the ground like the monsters down there had. He hoped not, but judging from the hard lines in Tseng's face, he suspected that that one hope was likely for naught. His hand hovered over the second button on the detonater; they needed at least another few thousand to come out of the ground still, before he could set off the second chain of barrel-bombs loaded with shrapnel and enough C-4 to level a town. To see the shambling, stumbling remains was...something he'd never encountered. Sure, there were always the resurrected undead from failed magics and tainted materia...but these were something else entirely.<p>

Tseng gave him a small gesture; his hand came down, lightly touching the red button, almost caressing it as it depressed, sending an even larger shockwave, this one focused inward with the rocks and boulders they'd airlifted into place where there was too much open space, and he grinned, this time like a skeleton. The bodies flew, great sprays of blood too dark to be alive soaking into the ground while random body parts were flung into the air, raining down on the remaining bodies. He tensed, though; another wave was breaking the surface, and it was much larger than the first two; they'd only had time enough to build three tiers of bombs. As the wretched underlings of Hojo's last experiments surged though the grisly remains, stomping their former comrades into the dust, Tseng made another gesture, this time one to stay his hand, and motioned for him to back away. The shockwave's deafening effects had made it impossible for him to hear the chopper; thankfully, Elena had jumped out and thrown open the door, allowing them both to get in. As she slid up front, Rude took off, and not a moment too soon; Tseng's roar of outrage startled all three of them as he opened fire just outside the door.

What remained of Zack had actually decayed very little; his wounds were still gaping and terrible, his eyes blank and clouded...His lips had receded a little from his teeth, giving him a permanent grimace, and hands still gloved had latched on to the chopper's frame, buckling the outer edges with ease. Tseng emptied a full clip into his heart; the zombie looked down, then back at him, a rough, sickening laugh rising from his chest.

"Tsk, tsk, Jiao-long...you should know better than to fight against meeee!~" He hissed out, and Reno felt the blood drain from his face. That might have been a bare remnant of Zack's voice...but the words were all Hojo. He darted forward and slammed his EMR into the monster's left eye socket, cranking up the voltage enough to cause the dead flesh to fry. The burning reek of skin and sinew filled the cabin, and Hojo's puppet let go enough for Rude to tip the chopper, causing him to fall to the ground now far below. Reno, already half out of the cab, felt two small hands grab his ankle as he fell; Tseng tackled him with a harness as Rude fought to get the helicopter under control, straightening it out with difficulty. Finally, though, Tseng let his second in command up, and after making sure that Reno was alright, collapsed into the chair, his head in his hands. Reno simply stared out at the masses, and pulled the detonater out of his jacket; he had to wait another few minutes for them to get away...Finally, they were outside the danger zone, and feeling his stomach drop somewhere around his ankles, he slammed the final button in.

The light hit them first, followed by the sound, as Midgar's outer plates exploded out and downward; the remaining mako reactors had been tied in with a series of explosive materia bombs. They were originally designed to clear mines more efficiently...now, they provided an enormous destructive power to allow for a summoning of Bahumut, to scathe the former metropolis from the face of Gaia. Reno yanked Elena out of the seat and threw her at Tseng as the second soundwave hit; Rude couldn't handle this sort of flying, and it would take all of his concentration to. As Tetraflare erupted behind them, however...he breathed a faint sigh, stripping off his goggles and letting his eyes go to the stars to navigate them to Wutai. It was hard to map his goal from the second sunrise they'd created, but he was a Turk; he'd find a way, even if it killed him.

* * *

><p>"What's the status of the Rocket Town airships?"<p>

"_Currently enroute to Wutai, all airships accounted for. The airship compound's cameras are playing on your screens now, Reeve._" Kunsel's metallic-edged voice sounded over the radio, and the toymaker turned bureaucrat had to smile, just a little. Like Hojo, Kunsel had uploaded a program onto the world's networking systems that used his personality and skill set to continue surveillance on all that the WRO had to keep eyes on. Unlike Hojo, Kunsel had died young, his body both rejecting the mako treatments he'd been subjected to during his tenure as a SOLDIER, and developing several cancers in an effort to fight off the geostigma that had followed. He'd spent the last few months of his life bedridden in Healin, attended by Reno, and had finished writing the coding. When Kunsel finally fell asleep for the last time, it was hard to be around Reno for about a month; he'd lost his friend and one of his few friendly mentors. Tseng had taken it badly too; his eyes had gotten older, the lines in his face more distinct, because Kunsel had been one of his very few friends. Reeve wondered sometimes what it might be like to go visit the old video rooms in the Tower...he knew now that they were demolished, utterly destroyed by both Diamond Weapon, and Omega. All they had left were a few cookie recipes, and the live feeds that Kunsel had left open from the time he started as a Turk, till the very end.

"_Reeve._"

"Yes?"

"_You're thinking about the past again._"

"Caught me. So, these are all casualites from the Nibel mountains, correct?" He studied the shambling remains, making notes on the papers Rufus had faxed over earlier of the peculiarities. There were crewmen, clad in white aerospace outfits, and numerous STC and SSC insignias crowded around the food supplies left behind. Some were missing arms, hands; one had no foot, and was tripping over the ball of the ankle, the muscles and skin slowly tearing away from the leg. Blood, blackened with soil and age, slimed off of their gear, while lips had retracted, noses decayed away, and eyes clouded over where they weren't missing outright. Many of the cannon-fodder had severe burns that had melted their skin away, leaving gaping holes where musculature could be seen rotting off the bones. One had no face at all; only a few remaining teeth to complete a macabre grin. He felt his stomach churn a little as a squabble started; rather than trading blows, there was simply pure cannibalism. One enormous brute picked up a smaller corpse, and Reeve was reminded of Barret and Cloud, until the huge zombie promptly cracked open the small one's skull and began feeding on the brains and skin. _I can never eat fried chicken again..._

"_Somewhat. The folks dressed in the white uniforms are original techinicians of the rocket, while the ones from the north are part of an old experimental mako well Hojo tried to dig up back before we were born. Looking over his data from what Vincent didn't manage to destroy, I'd say he had the whole world under his thumb, had he not gotten cocky and greedy and set about fucking it all up. Idiot._"

"Well, he was never much of a people person, old friend."

"_You've never spoken truer. So, why'd you take off in a private ship?_"

"I needed to make sure that the people who were having problems coming to terms with this would find transport, and barring that, shelter that's sturdy."

"_...Reeve, you've got too big a heart sometimes, I think._"


	5. Chapter 5

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: …Ah, screw it. **

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

Tifa set the last of the canned goods into the bins below the Avalanche's kitchen counter and stretched her back and arms, wincing as a few muscles popped and relaxed. Rubbing her upper arms, she glanced up as a shadow crossed the lights on the wall opposite her, then settled back against the counter. Vincent's thin frame leaned against the island's edge, rubbing the back of his neck and hissing faintly. She had to smile a little, and moved closer.

"Need a massage?"

"No, but thank you. Your hands must be hurting like mad. I'll be alright once Cid comes back on watch and I can lay down." He gazed at the pile of boxes in the middle of the cafeteria and chuckled lightly. "Done packing?"

"I hope so. I was a little ticked that the guys all passed the kitchen stuff to me."

"I would have come down to help, had you asked."

"You were resting, and rightfully so. How far are we from Wutai?"

"Well, taking into account the fact that we had to circumvent a huge storm, I'd say we're about four hours away still, not to mention the damned hike through the mountains. So, technically, another day." She groaned.

"Crap...It was a bad idea to get drunk the other night..." He sighed and nodded, then laughed dryly.

"But it did take the edge off the shock."

"Fair enough. Speaking of alcohol…want a glass of wine? I salvaged one of Cid's vintages." She motioned to the sadly depleted liquor cabinet, where four fat bottles lay on their sides, chilled just right. A flash of a grin made her smirk, and she turned around, reaching up to take down two glasses. She started as a tall shadow loomed over her, but was soothed by two thin, strong hands coming to rest on her hips. A small shiver started up her spine as Vincent's warm chuckle sounded in her ear.

"You know, I never thanked you for all you've done, Tifa…" She smiled, and turned in his arms, setting her own on his shoulders, her expression growing gentle.

"You don't need to thank me, Vincent. We owed you so much after Deepground…and no one gave you the time of day…" He pulled her close, weaving one hand up into her hair, touching his forehead to hers.

"I was never concerned with what came after Deepground. You took care of Shelke, and Marlene and Denzel, put up with Cloud…And on top of that, you gave me a job…" She chuckled, nuzzling his nose a little. He missed the quiet nights at the bar, when a glance across the smoke-covered tables could say as much as their words now. He missed the shadowy peace of her bedroom, safe from the kids, Cloud, Barret...His thoughts derailed as she replied.

"And you're the best bouncer I could ask for…" She looked a little sad, and he placed a kiss on her lips, eyes darkly glowing.

"What's the matter?

"Just worried about whether we'll survive this…" He hugged her close, tucking her head under his chin.

"Tifa, I promise you…we will get through this." She laughed, roughly, and he could hear the tears in her voice. Poor love...

"You know, Cloud promised me the same thing, so long ago..." Tifa looked up at the gunman, and despite the tears, felt determination in her voice. "But you're the only one who came back. And I am _glad_." Vincent smiled, and scooped her up in his arms, plucking the wine bottle out of the cooler, his sharp hearing catching the sound of a crotchety Cid, banging around on the upper deck.

"Then let us retire for the night, my lady, and we'll lose the world till daybreak."

* * *

><p>Cid grouched a little as he tore off his goggles, wrapping a bandanna over his sunbleached hair. Used to be, the heat in the lower valleys of Wutai didn't bug him so much; he supposed that age and toodling around in the cooler mountain climes had made him soft. Shera leaned on her walking stick next to him, her bad leg from the explosion in Shinra 26 paining her more now, despite the exercise and therapy she'd kept up. He leaned over and gave her a kiss.<p>

"Need a rest?" She huffed out a faint laugh, and nodded.

"If it's not too much trouble..." Cid glanced at the others; Marlene was on Barret's back, fast asleep, Nanaki, Reeve, and Cait Sith urging on the crewmen and few WRO members who'd waited for them at the port. He felt uneasy to be away from his ships; a full day's walk, a half day's drive...If they had to escape, they had the boats for the tiny harbor, and Godo's shinobi, but still...Glancing behind, he hid a smile at the sight of his best friend helping a clearly sick Tifa up the slopes. She'd woken them all up this morning with a loud pukefest, and he'd seen the glimmer of guilt in Vincent's eyes...and while the gunman seemed simply concerned, he knew better. Cloud kept shooting them suspicious glances from his perch above everyone; he was clearing the way of brush and monsters, apparently in a pissy mood. The pilot just shrugged to himself...if the spiky-headed shit was jealous, then maybe he'd learned that what you don't cherish, you lose.

"Nah, looks like Teef's in for a breather too. Oi! Vin! Bring that poor girl up here and get her settled in the shade!" A faint nod, and in a flash, he was sitting Tifa upright on the ground, unbuttoning the front of her shirt, then pulling out his canteen. Shera settled next to her, sympathetic, and Cid cussed and smoked himself to the ground across from them, taking a swig from his water bottle. Vincent still hovered near the martial artist, abeiting only when she teasingly shooed him over to sit next to Cid. Barret followed them, carefully laying Marlene on the ground, pillowing her head on his pack.

"Damn..." The big man groaned, leaning on his mechanical hand, his human one ruffling his daughter's hair. "Spiky's a real prick today, ain't he?" Vincent snorted, his eyes still on Tifa, and Cid sighed.

"Brat has more temper tantrums than Marlene and Denzel combined..."

"...He's pissing me off." The gunman growled, and Tifa shot him a glance. Shera cleared her throat nervously.

"Uh...how much further, Vincent?" Ruby eyes narrowed, then he sighed, leaning back on his bad hand.

"Another three or so hours, if I remember correctly. Though I am sorely tempted to switch to Galian, save that it is ungodly hot out here." Everyone nodded, and no one was surprised when, barely a minute later, Cloud came stomping up, his blue eyes angry.

"I take it everyone's mysteriously sick now?" Cid flipped him the bird, making no move to stand up.

"No, Spiky, we're all fuckin' tired. So why don't ya sit yer mako-enflamed ass down an' shut the hell up." Cloud glared at him, and drove his sword into the ground, leaning against the broad side.

"It's not that far."

"No, but I'm sick, Barret's carrying Marlene, and Shera's leg is killing her. We're not all SOLDIER, Cloud. And you should know that." Tifa's voice was sharp, and more than a little hurt, and Cid hid a grin behind his cigerette. That voice seemed to make the blonde crumple, and he ripped his sword out of the soil, heading back to the head of the pack in silence. Barret tossed her a thumbs up, and she gave him a wan smile. "I'm getting sick from his PMS more than I am from the heat." Shera laughed a little, and Vincent gave her a smile, while Cid coughed out a rough chuckle. He'd missed the comradery, even if he was a little grouchy about the walk, and judging from the others...they did too. He opened his bottle again, and tipped it up, when an eerie howl broke the soft sounds of birdsong and the wind. Vincent was already on his feet, crimson eyes scanning the landscape behind them, and Cid struggled to move his old bones, Barret following suit. Shera roused Marlene with a shake, while Tifa forced herself to stand, looking decidedly green.

"Fuck..." Vincent breathed, and a heartbeat later, he was shifting into a huge, shaggy, purple-furred beast with great red horns and and a long, whip-like tail. Tifa carefully pulled herself up into his back, and Barret boosted first Shera, then hugged Marlene close before handing her up. Cid leaned over to Vincent's ear, and pulled his cigerette away.

"Get them to Yuffie; we'll get Reeve's men hurrying and hold a walking barrier. If you can, come back out and help, but I'd appreciate knowing you're watching over them more than having your bullets flying over my head for a change...and Vincent?" The beast eyed him, yellow eyes questioning. "Congrats." He slapped his shoulder, and Vincent took off with a roar and a lope, his long body easily carrying both women and girl. As they disappeared over the hill, Cid yanked out several sticks of dynamite, and threw a few at Barret. "Awright; let's let these sons-of-bitches know just what they're dealin' with!"

* * *

><p>Tseng looked out over the hills of his native home, black eyes narrowing through the binoculars. Reno and Rude were still up in the air, tracking the movements of the small group of undead technicians from the long forgotten Shinra port, half buried by an earthquake years before. Elena was behind the sniper rifle off to his left, picking off the ones who came into range behind the fleeing WRO and airship crewmen. Cid and Barret had used up their supply of dynamite, to suitable effect, and were now helping carry packs and the extra supplies they'd left the ships with. The monsters were a good fifty yards back, and moving slowly; decomposition from the sea air and moisture had half-mummified them, while the hot sun was slowly baking the poor bastards to a crisp. They weren't like the others...He resisted the urge to shudder.<p>

"Elena, how many bullets do you have left?"

"Sixteen. Not enough to take out the group, but I can still tag the speedy ones. Speaking of which..." The sound of the rifle's CRACK filled the valley again, and Tseng took comfort in the scent of gunpowder, hot and fresh. He flipped open his PHS and phoned Rude, pulling his hair over one shoulder against the wind.

"Rude, I need you to come pick us up. We're low on ammo."

"_Yessir. Reno." _Tseng froze.

_"I heard him, I heard him. We'll be there in a sec, Boss."_ Closing the phone, Tseng withdrew his pistol with his other hand, and set his phone back into his pocket. He slowly settled into a defensive position, and nudged Elena with his foot.

"Stand up slowly, and draw your weapon. We've got company." His blood ran cold as that familiar black hair came into focus, falling out in clumps now, a huge bullet wound matching his own bindi against the Major's forehead, and Zack grinned, though there was no humor, no warmth.

"Heyla, Tsengy...and Elena...you've gotten pretty damned fine, girly. How about we play a little game, eh?" The rusted buster sword was leveled at them, the gaping wounds in his arms and chest holding it as steady as when he was alive. "You two come here, and I fill this empty stomach, and we don't have any of that stupid screaming and bullet-spewing?" Elena took out a second gun, tears running down her face. Tseng felt the same, his stomach churning. This...was more wrong than anything else Hojo had done...and Tseng had thought he'd seen it all with Valentine.

"Zack..."

"That's not him, Elena. Zack passed on into the Lifestream, with Aeris and the rest of SOLDIER. That's a sick, twisted perversion, same as all the other sick things Hojo made over the years." Tseng held his head high, black eyes burning with rage and a distant sorrow. "You have your orders, Turk. Fire on my mark."

"Yes. Sir."

***stretchystretchy* Oh gods...I apologize for the lackluster posting. I've been bulldozed by work lately, and having to take commissions out the arse to keep up with loan payments and buying a car.  
>So...what would you lot like to see in upcoming chapters? I'm largely keeping to the favorite characters right now because it's easier to build the story with someone everyone knows, and maybe hates, rather than someone people are like 'who the hell is this?' Though Denzel and Shelke will make an appearance or two, but I like Marlene the most. XD Give me your reviews, your critiques, your obsessions!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**The Lifestream: It flows deep beneath the surface of our earth, acting as the planet's lifeblood, its inner heart...it is the collective whole of all the souls born to our peoples. Over the eons, many have sought its glimmering power, only to find that it corrupted, tainted, destroyed; not so long ago, we fought to return it to its proper place, only to find ourselves battered and worn. The return of Sephiroth, and two years later, the advent of his remnants, nearly destroyed us...we could but watch at first in horror and sorrow at the events of Deepground. Now, we fight again...this time, however, against something far different. There is no mastermind, no great plan; only a raging thirst for blood that we dare not sate. I fear that our hearts may not hold this time...**

**~Vincent Valentine**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: …Ah, screw it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

**Reviews make me write more, and longer! Please review!**

One blue eye surveyed the files, long fingers moving over the multiple keyboards, a soft hiss emanating from the tubes. The Shera's hulk loomed over the remains of the medic bay, the great recuperation tubes cracked and still spilling their precious liquid, the glowing mako lighting her investigation. One had housed her until the fall of the great airship, and it had taken a good few hours, by her best guess, to pry open the jammed lock. It was dangerous to go outside; though only one small screen worked, she could hear, and see, that much. Her high heels and lab coat lay where she'd thrown them; her ears kept an alert for anything that might poke its head in from the rent in the floor below. She wondered, distantly, if the others had survived; the Net had nothing pertaining to the remnants of AVALANCHE, and only sparse notes on the WRO. The infection, the evactuations...those were prominent, and terrible to behold...but that was all. Curving lips thinned in anger, and her remaining hand slammed on the console. Damn that monster...damn him. He'd stolen her very life away, and now...a presence behind her made her spin, and her eye widened in confusion, then brief terror. This could not be...

* * *

><p>Heaving a sigh, Genesis hauled Weiss back up onto his shoulders and continued the long hike down from the sacred peak at the northernmost point of Wutai. Zack had floated off ahead, exploring, while Seph and Angeal helped him by pushing aside branches and pointing him to safer paths. The break had been appreciated, moreso now; he'd discovered that despite having had further experimenting done to his body, his endurance, had, if anything, gotten worse. He sighed tiredly, and smiled faintly as Angeal plucked a long leaf off the tree nearest them and began fanning him.<p>

"My thanks."

"_It's the least I could do. Seph, how far is Zack?"_

"Roughly six meters."

"And to the town?"

"Not too much farther. Watch your step; it drops down sharply."

Genesis worked his way down the drop off and winced as his ankle rolled badly; great, a limp to add to his new collection of cuts, bruises, and that concussion from Zack's poor directions and a seagull. He bloody well hated seagulls...The sounds of the city were growing louder, though, and he sighed with relief at slate tiles and a mass of people. Unlike his anti-social friends and comrades, he loved the sounds and sight of people; the more, the better. He felt the strain of being alone drop from his shoulders, and he held the younger man a little better, his feet moving far easier in the heeled boots over the smooth pavers than the rough terrain behind them. There were a few glances, but no inquiries; the entire city was boiling with a larger number of people than it could handle, and they kept to themselves, far too tired to question another vagrant, though the two little spirits resting on his shoulders seemed intriguing.

"_We should head to the Imperial palace._"

"_Why's that?_"

"Because that's where the forces will gather." Genesis could read the tone of Sephiroth's voice almost too well, and he bit back the urge to grumble. If he could manage it, they would need his power, and his abilities. He suspected that he wouldn't be turned away... "Alright, Angeal, go get Zack...Sephiroth, show me where to go. It's been a few years since we were last here, and it was certainly _not_ a vacation."

* * *

><p>Yuffie's form was tense, perfectly frozen atop the tallest spire of her father's temple. Godo might have been appalled, but he was too busy managing the ten thousand-odd refugees brought in by helicopter and some of Cid's smaller airships. She could just barely see the glimmer of silver blue in the distance through her binoculars; she couldn't make out any but the foremost group of soldiers and crewmen marching steadily, if a little faster than normal, through the gap in the valley wall. She squinted, but saw nothing beyond; the atmosphere up here, while offering an enormous expanse to see, did make looking through the heatwaves emanating from the deep valley floors difficult. She shivered as a gust of wind tore through her thin outfit; she'd grown quite a bit in the past few years, and had eschewed her old tube top and short-shorts for long leggings, a comfortably loose tunic tied over a net shirt and breast wrap. Her long boots still remained, as did her headband; on her back was a terribly sharp giant shuriken, this one folded to make espionage a little less dangerous to herself and her clothing. She wondered how Tifa was doing; they hadn't talked in almost two days, which, despite her maturity, still felt like a lifetime. Tifa'd mentioned something going on with Vincent...She had to smile a little, albeit sadly. Ah, well...You win some, you lose some.<p>

As she pulled the lenses away, repositioning her feet to stretch one leg out, then the other, she nearly fell the seven stories to the ground when an enormous purple monster surged up over the hills protecting the city and howled, making straight for Godo's palace. Her father looked like he was both ready to fight, and wet himself, when she launched herself off the spire and free fell to the ground below, landing easily into a cherry tree. From Galian's back slid a sickly Tifa, a frightened Marlene, and an absolutely shell-shocked Shera.

"Tifa! Vincent! What the hell's goin' on?" She demanded, catching Marlene in a hug as the girl launched herself at her favorite aunt. The older woman sagged a little against Shera's shoulder as Vincent shifted back, his eyes and movements still distinctly feral, but he turned a quiet expression to the ninja.

"We were followed by a group of dead techs. Where they came from, I've no idea." He picked up Tifa, and motioned for Shera to go into the manse, keeping his pace even for Yuffie to follow.

"But, we purified the whole damned continent! What the hell do you think we've been doing?" She snarled, and Vincent turned, his red eyes hard.

"I never once said it was your fault, Yuffie. I said we were followed. My guess is that there was a station here at some point in the past; possibly before my time. As it stands, Cid, Barret, Cloud, and Reeve, along with the WRO members, are acting as rear guard, taking down as many as they can with their long range weapons. Now, if you'll oblige, I need to get Tifa to a bed, and _now_, she's very ill." The young ninja looked at her friend, really looked at her, and felt the color drain out of her face. Tifa was breathing shallowly, her face pale, eyes closed. She clutched the front of Vincent's shirt, her braid messy and faint shivers were causing her whole body to shake. After directing Shera to one of the spare rooms, Marlene in tow, Yuffie followed her fellow AVALANCHE member back into the hallway.

"What's wrong with her?" That small voice might have been a child's again, and the gunman sighed, making for the room his bartender usually took when she vacationed with Yuffie.

"...I...suspect I know what it is. The others seem to be under the impression that she's...with child." Glancing back, he hated himself for having quash the sudden light in the girl's eyes. "I wish they were right; sadly, though, I believe that Hojo's tinkering with her during the Nibelheim incident may have caused this illness. We won't know, though, until Reeve makes it in; I want you to stay here, and guard her, Shera, Marlene and the house. I will return to the battle field and finish off the poor souls." Yuffie sighed, and after Vincent had laid Tifa down, covering her with a warm quilt, lightly reached up and smacked him in the back of the head.

"Idiot. You'll need someone familiar with this landscape to lead the troups at a run; you cover my back, I'll get them into the gates safe and sound." Vincent graced her with a thin smile, and led her out, shutting the shoji behind him.

"Fair enough, fair enough...Cloud should be at the head. Come on, you can ride out.." He was drowned out as they made their way out into the palace's open room, the doors all thrown open to allow for free movement...and a sight that Yuffie hadn't seen in nearly ten years. Vincent looked confused as she stiffened, her eyes wide, her father's personal guard surrounding a tall man with shaggy red hair, his blue eyes plainly annoyed. He was dressed in long red leather coat, not unlike Sephiroth's in cut...

"Genesis Rhapsodos." Godo's voice echoed from where he stood at the door, his voice dripping with hatred. The man bowed his head in acknowledgement, and sighed.

"Godo Kisaragi. I...am thankful you survived."

"I am considerably less so that you did, scum."

"...I did not come here to fight you, old man. It was the monster who created these pitiful masses who woke me as he died at last. I am here to make amends for my sins."

"You slaughtered a nation, transformed them with the cells of that evil from the heavens. You sought the deaths of all, all for your precious Goddess! You stain the name of humanity!"

"...I was a failure to my name. To my brothers in arms, and the peoples I swore to protect. However..." A dark aura rose about the man, and Vincent stepped forward, his hand resting on the grip of his gun, red eyes narrowed. "When I woke again, freed of the constraints on my mind and soul, I found myself besieged by the dead reanimated, and I fled with another victim, his mind eaten away by Hojo. I was given a choice; continue fleeing...or fight. I chose to fight." The aura exploded outward as a black wing rose from his left shoulder blade, mirror to Sephiroth, a red sword gleaming at his hip in a crystalline sheath. The wing, however, withdrew and tucked itself away, and his arms crossed, legs spread apart slightly. He looked tired, and it was Vincent who made the first overture, his deep voice filling the silence left in Genesis's declaration.

"A younger brother, then; I welcome you, Genesis. Would you do myself and my young companion the honor of accompanying us out to the badlands to finish off the small group tailing our troops?" Genesis seemed to think about it for a moment, though his blue eyes softened as the wing disappeared entirely and he stepped forward, unimpeded by the spears and swords that had been pointed at him. Godo looked rather angry, but he did respect Vincent, and his judgement...occasionally. Yuffie winced as her father glared at her, and made haste to follow after the two men; at this point, she'd rather be stuck between a Turk and SOLDIER than trapped by her old man.

**I hope no one came out OOC...I really had to fight to keep Gen in character. Anywho...So, I'm submitting this story to the NaNoWriMo contest in November, and I'm rather happy with the direction it's heading. For once, I have a good, long story that's not moving so fast it leaves my readers in the ditch!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Mako Tidings - A Final Fantasy VII Halloween fic.**

**WARNINGS: Language, for one thing, and gore. A lot of it. Don't read this if you're squeamish about dead bodies/body parts/organs/blood. If you do, know that I'll laugh if you flame me.**

**Pairings: …Ah, screw it. **

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Final Fantasy franchises. That's Squeenix. I do, however, own the cause of the infection in this particular story, because I designed the nanobots to mimic the parasite. At least for the story's purposes.**

**Reviews make me write more, and longer! Please review!**

Hard blue eyes passed over the documents with a speed and comprehension no few called 'genius', but Rufus Shinra did not feel his usual sense of superiority; his worries were too many, his moments of rest too far apart. He was methodically scanning the many, many papers leftover from the last raids into Deepground, for Vincent had been kind enough to leave most of the files intact, protecting some of them from the fires that broke out after Omega's great rising. He hissed a little as he shifted wrong in the chair; his hips still hurt immensely, and a shadow moved in the darkness beyond his lit desk. Even if the windows had been uncovered, cold darkness waited outside, and at least the papers and posters reflected some of the light back...even if they were of rather unsavory subjects. This had been, once upon a time, Gast's hideaway with Ifalna...It felt like a lifetime ago.

"You should sleep, boss."

"You know that just isn't possible, old friend." He held his half-full glass of brandy up to his forehead, relishing the cool glass against heated skin. "I have got to find out exactly what this damned virus is, and how to fight it. If what Tseng and Reno said was true about Zack's remains, we have no recourse but to find a cure...or at least a means to destroy it. The Barres-Oxley strain is the only one mentioned in these manuscripts, but knowing Hojo, he'll have made that a mess as well." The shadow solidified as Evander leaned over the desk, his dark green eyes hazy with exhaustion, spiky red hair falling out of its usual slicked-back look. Few would have marked his resemblence to another, much younger Turk, until he spoke, the thick, lazy Junon accent smoothing his rough voice.

"Eh, leave it ta Hojo ta fuck up an already fucked-up virus, yo. Speaking a the Rat Pack, tho', we gotta emergancy call from the Brat." Rufus growled a little, and sighed, leaning back.

"What's wrong with Reno?"

"More like wha's wrong wit' Tseng. Said he had ta save him an' th' gel." Rufus's eyes widened, but he suppressed the fear and worry; if Evander and Veld hadn't jumped out there, or drawn lots to, then they had a strong feeling that the youngest four Turks would be alright. Maybe. He sighed, and refilled his glass, downing it in one gulp. "Sure tha's a good idea, bossman?"

"Do I have a choice? The painkillers make me sleep, the brandy numbs the pain, but keeps me awake."

"It fogs ya brain, tho', and makes ya scared a th' bumps in th' night." The blond snorted, and tossed back an icecube to give him the semblance of food. He sat and crunched on it, picking up the next photo, staring at the degradation, the discharge flowing from nostrils and eyes. It was less horrific now, and more saddening, and he was thankful that the alcohol also deadened his emotions. He pitied the poor creatures, and felt responsible, though it was hardly his sin, for their fate...but he would not allow them to suffer any longer...let alone spread this monster any further across the planet.

"Perhaps, Eva, but it saves me the trouble of making you carry me unconcious should we have to flee." The older man snorted himself, and reached forward, claiming the short brandy bottle, only a little of the liquid sloshing. Evander was a past master at drinking, and so drank the rest of the bottle down, setting the amber glass decisively on top of Rufus's discard pile.

"Kiddo, I could carry ya wit' one hand, an' shoot wit' th' other. An' I could do it drunk, too. Now, ya better get ya ass ta bed, or I'm gonna haul it there." The grin on his face finally made Rufus throw in the towel, and carefully, painfully, he stood up, holding on to the desk for stability. The walk to his small bedroom would be torturous, but all he had to do was fall in. Evander would help him undress, then settle him under the covers before the Legend would allow his own protege to take over the night shift, allowing himself a few hours of sleep. So he did just that, closing his eyes to the pain, helping where he could to get into the long nightshirt and pants. At last, he was drowsing under the spell of his narcotics, Veld and Evander discussing such quiet matters as food supplies and security detail; as Rufus felt sleep begin to take him, he felt the little house they had holed up in outside of Icicle Inn shake, just a little, and four pissed off, sharp voices filled the downstairs, making him relax as Evander stormed down to bellow at Reno and Tseng, and as all hell broke loose, Rufus had one tiny thought before he let the darkness fall. _Gods, it's good to be home..._

* * *

><p>With a bit-off curse, Cid rubbed his now concussed skull and glared at the pipes he'd smacked into that formed the underbelly of Godo's mansion. Great...a skull fracture to add to his aching body and broken heart. He sat down and massaged his temples, not caring about the streaks of grease, and pulled out a cigerette. He took a long drag, and felt the prickling in his eyes that signaled another breakdown. Fuck...he'd had three today already! Wasn't that enough? But he let the tears flow, knowing that anything he did would make it worse. Damn...he knew that Shera hadn't taken to the airship business as well as she had the rockets, even when he'd helped her gain her own captaincy. She loved the independence, but when she came home at night, despite his best efforts, she would always seem so...bored. The first year or so had been rough; there were a lot of fights, a lot of problems...but he'd thought that they'd ironed most of it out. He kept the house clean and pretty when he was there, she did the same, he remembered her birthday, their anniversary, Valentine's, Christmas...He had no idea what he'd done to deserve her cheating on him. Through the burning tears, he hacked out a laugh; most of the time, the boys he knew assumed <em>he<em> was the tailchaser. Gods, if only they knew...

A long-fingered hand touched his shoulder, and Cid glared up, prepared to raise a wrench and threaten with all he had, when he caught sight of his interupter. Vincent held out a tall bottle of beer, one eyebrow raised, though his eyes were a sad, warm red. Cid relaxed, slumping back onto his toolbox, taking the glass gingerly.

"I thought you might be down here, Chief..." No advice, no accusation...mentally, Cid blessed his best friend a thousand times over, and settled back, offering the taller man a drink. Vincent took it, then passed the bottle back.

"Yeah...jus'...Ah hell, ya know why I'm down here. So, how's our girl?" It was funny, really, how Cid had taken a fatherly interest in Tifa during the course of their first adventure, and had remained close to the martial artist throughout the years, including when Vincent had started courting her early last year. Hell, he'd even mock-threatened the gunman, making some very obscene gestures with his spear. Vincent seemed to remember that, for he smiled a little, and sighed.

"She's sick, but not with child, as you were thinking. I'm worried that it's a symptom of the virus...but I have no idea, and we have so little information."

"Ya said earlier that she was fine when we were up in the air, right?"

"Correct, but she had been feeling rather off since before that, so I do not believe that air travel will help her. Reeve is talking to Veld right now; apparently, the Turks have discovered a former SOLDIER First Class who's been reanimated...and something of Hojo's personality has possessed it." Cid blanched.

"Not Seph-?"

"No, no. Someone...a little closer to some of our friends' hearts. Did you ever know a Zackary Fair when you were working for Shinra?" From the look on his face, Cid guessed that Vincent had his answer. Gods...Zack too? What the hell had that poor, unlucky bastard done to deserve that sort of fate.

"Does Cloud know?" Vincent sighed.

"Judging from the bars downtown, definitely. Yuffie was heartbroken...Tifa silent. She asked me for a moment alone, so I came to find you. I take it you knew him well?" Cid smiled faintly.

"Well enough ta get drunk with him every Friday night, and I still remember betting him sing in the fountain in Shinra Plaza. He was...the life of SOLDIER. You could never get Zack down, Vin, even when he knew he might not come back..." Vincent sighed heavily, and patted Cid on the shoulder, careful to minimize how much grease got on him.

"That's what Genesis said; he was very, very upset that the boy was so ill-used, and I can see why. Zack was his best friend's protege, and so he tells me, the person who made him see sense. Apparently, all of the Turks were livid, and were forced to fight him twice due to Hojo's tinkering."

"I can imagine...Reno was as close to him as Cloud was, if not a little more at times. And Tseng had reprimanded both of them so many times that he'd grown to like the idiot as much as the rest of us." He'd wondered where the warrior in red had come from, but since Vincent clearly trusted him, he was inclined to give the man a break. Besides, it wasn't like superwarriors were popping out of the groun-nevermind. Not in a helpful way, at least. He sighed, stubbing out the butt of the cigerette and rubbing his hands on his pants, suddenly concious of how filthy he was. He knew that Vin didn't care, but..."What'd I do wrong, Vin? I thought I'd gotten better..." There, it was out, and judging from the shadows falling across Vincent's face, he'd been anticipating this.

"That...I could not tell you, my friend. If, however, you're willing to listen...I might have a reason why the cards fell as they did."

"I'm listening."

"You loved Shera as a sister for a very long time, and so when you married, you thought of it as a continuation...no, a strengthening of that bond. She...did not. She, I believe, had a fairy tale dream of being swept off her feet, being a mother, and because of the way you'd set up the company, that could not occur. So, she went looking for her knight, and found him in Junon. You never stood a chance, Cid; she's just as secretive as Lucrecia."

"But, I did everything she asked..." Vincent stood up with him now, and clasped his shoulders, forcing Cid to meet his eyes.

"She asked the impossible, Cid. She wanted her perfect ideal, not the good man you are. And...I think I know who your heart truly longed for." Cid closed his eyes in shame at that, willing himself not to remember..._the tank, watching such a brilliant mind wither in a body battered and torn...that wry blue eye...her smile..._

"Vincent...please." The gunman backed off, understanding, and watched his friend struggle with the grief that he'd not been allowed to feel at Shalua's passing. Tifa had told him about how much Cid had hated himself for having to crash the _Sierra, _Shalua's comatose form trapped in the medic bay, her brain likely dead, her body barely alive. Certain things could never be healed, and they had known that; it made the decision all the harder to bear. Shera had to have guessed that..."Hey, Vin?"

"Yes, Cid?"

"When this is over...I wanna go give that woman a proper funeral."

"I'll help you.

* * *

><p>Slipping under the pile of rubble, her mako-bright eyes aglow, Shelke avoided the bad spots, where the virus had forced it's victims into an enormous pile, slowly consuming one another. It was...horrific, to say the least, and she thanked Shiva for her ability to shut off her emotions. Her last net dive had shocked her into silence, and with a note left with Cait Sith, she had stolen away, back into the belly of the beast...back to Midgar. One single flicker of life remained, trapped in the same place she'd been left, and as Shelke drew close, she felt the bonds between them tighten, and she knew that Shalua was in danger. She crashed into the medic bay, blades glaring orange, and lanced into the horde stuffing themselves into the lone unprotected opening, shoving her sister aside as she slashed at the moaning, screaming mass of bodies.<p>

"Shelke?"

"Shalua, stop gaping and get a grenade off of my belt!" The younger sister was thankful that Shalua could snap out of her shock easily, and as the materia grenade soared into the darkness, they turned and fled through the opening Shelke had created, out and out running for the rim of the mako reactors. If they made it there, Shelke could summon an aeon, and delay the monsters a little longer for them to make it to the truck she'd stolen away. Despite her bare feet being torn to bits, Shelke was pleased to see that her elder sister was as firm and strong as she could have wished. Shalua's lab coat had been left behind, her slender body weaving as easily as her sister's through the tangle of twisted iron beams and slabs of fallen concrete. She was breathing perhaps a little harder than most would, but she also had more injuries than most could have endured.

"I...don't suppose...you have a gun?"

"Only my blades and materia. Speaking of which...fall to the ground, now!" As they both flattened themselves, holding on to one another, a burst of yellow light seared above them, the screeching of several dozen zombies being drowned out by the crackling of a thousand or so bolts of lightning. Shalua stared at her, and Shelke had to smile at the mixed pride and awe in her eye. "I've grown a little, sister."

"That you have. Now, let's get the hell out of here; I don't know about you, but I've been stuck in there for a lot longer than I wanted to be." Shelke grinned.

"As you wish, sister."


End file.
